And the Dam Broke
by otherpartyfavors
Summary: Spoilers of 2x10. Fitz gets injured in the aftermath, and Jemma isn't ready to deal with the emotions threatening to overcome her.
1. Chapter 1

But there was the earthquake. Raina _did_ go into the tunnels with the Diviner, Skye, Coulson and Trip at her heels. Trip _did_ not make it out of the tunnels, and a few sparse Hydra agents _did_ shoot at the team, despite their leader being dead and gone.

Fitz was hit, and although Jemma knew the bullet only scratched his skin, the presence of blood soaking his shirt and pain on his face left her shaking from head to toe. She knew she was not going to lose him, _but she could have._ Trip was gone. _Trip was gone, _and almost immediately after learning that fact, Jemma was hit with the realization that Fitz could have been gone, too.

Jemma tried to remain focused as her and Mack eased Fitz onto the plane, May running to the cockpit while the rest of the team fired shots at the enemy. Raina had disappeared to who knows where, with Jemma only catching a glimpse at her new, strange physique.

As they reached the medical unit of the Bus, Mack lifted Fitz onto the bed. A rush of affection cursed through Jemma as she looked onto the man who they thought was lost forever, but had somehow survived. He was alive, and for that Jemma let out a sigh of relief, before grabbing the needed supplies to clear Fitz's wound.

Lifting his shirt over his head, Jemma examined the substantial, but not life-threatening wound. As she began to clean it, Fitz swore from the pain of it.

"I'm sorry!" Jemma said shakily. "I'll be done soon, I promise. Mack, please get the ibuprofen out of the top drawer in the corner—he'll need about 800 milligrams."

"Ibuprofen? Not something stronger?" asked Fitz, scrunching up his face in pain as Jemma continued to clean the wound.

"Once I'm done cleaning, the ibuprofen should be fine. Most of your pain now is from the rubbing alcohol. If it's still bad after cleaning, I'll give you something stronger. Okay?" She looked into his face, and almost broke down. He was in pain, and it was breaking her heart.

He must have sensed her emotions, as he gave her a small, grimacy smile and said, "Yeah, that sounds okay. I'll be okay."

"Need anything else, doctor?" Mack asked, feigning formality with a smile.

Jemma smiled back. "No, no, I'm about done with the cleaning now—just need to patch him up. Feel free to help the others if you'd like."

"All right, Turbo," said Mack, as he clapped Fitz gently on the shoulder. "See you later, man."

Fitz let out a shaky sigh as Mack left the room. "You were right about the city possessing him, thank god," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and shutting his eyes tight.

Jemma had seen him do this few times before, usually when he was feeling some emotion he wanted to control, almost as if he wanted to squeeze it out of his head before he looked vulnerable in front of others.

"Yeah," was all that Jemma could say for a while, as she finished placing the bandages on Fitz's abdomen. Now that Mack was out of the room, she normally would have felt more comfortable in letting her own emotions spill over, but she didn't know if she could risk it now. Things seemed slightly better between her and Fitz, but there was still some wall between them, keeping her from breaking down in front of him, as she desperately needed to do.

She knew she couldn't keep her cool much longer, and needed to get away as soon as possible. "There you go, Fitz," she said in an unusually high voice, "all better!" The smile that stretched across her face must have given her away, as Fitz gave her a look of concern. She busied herself by crossing to his other side, putting away the supplies in the nearby cabinet.

She took a deep breath to stabilize herself, and said, "Okay, Fitz, I'll be right back, going to go check on the rest of the team—"

"Jemma," he said, as he caught her hand before she left his side. "Jemma, please don't go yet," he finished, pools of unwanted tears forming in his eyes.

And the dam broke. Jemma let out a mighty sob and clutched onto his arm, running her hands up and down it, making sure that he was really there and really alive. She somehow maneuvered herself onto his cot, clutching onto his whole body (except his wound), never wanting to let him go because if she did, something could happen to him again.

"Jemma," Fitz let out shakily, "Shhh… Jemma, it's gonna be okay." But he didn't sound very convinced.

She looked up to his face, tearful eyes meeting tearful eyes, and she couldn't stop herself from saying it. "Please don't ever get hurt ever again." She knew it was a ridiculous request. She knew he could never promise that. _But God damn it, she was asking it anyways._

"Jemma," Fitz started, locking eyes hers, "You know I can't p-promise that… No one can, even people with, ah, n-normal jobs can't promise that."

"I know, I know," she responded, looking down towards her hand resting on his chest. "I just don't want to lose you," she choked out.

She felt his lips press warmly against her forehead, his arm reaching around to pull her closer to him. She closed her eyes, reveling in this new warmth, this new closeness that somehow appeared between them.

"I don't want to lose you either, Jemma," Fitz choked out, and continued, "I'm so sorry for how terrible things have been, for, um, pushing you away—I thought that's what you wanted, but I didn't even ask—"

"Oh, Fitz," she sobbed, "I'm sorry, I thought I was hurting your recovery, maybe I shouldn't have left—If I had just been honest—"

"Let's just, not do that ever again. Let's work this out," he added placing another kiss on her forehead.

Jemma vigorously nodded yes in reply, before snuggling herself closer to Fitz, closing her eyes again, trying to regain control of herself.

After a few moments of calm, Trip's face somehow popped into Jemma's mind. His warm smile, his encouraging words. She almost lost control again. After a few deep breaths, she managed to ask Fitz simply, "Trip is really gone, isn't he?"

There was a long pause from Fitz, and a few sniffles, before he responded. "Yeah, but we'll make sure he didn't go in vain."

They seemed to stay like that, curled up in each other's arms, for hours. Jemma was so relieved that she could be there, in that safe place, vulnerable but comforted. They stayed like that until sometime later, when Mack appeared. "So what's going on here?" he said with a chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

A few weeks past, and although generally the awkwardness had subsided, something was still off. Jemma couldn't quite put her finger on it, and it was driving her mad.

Her and Fitz were communicating in the lab wonderfully, finishing every task Coulson put in front of them in next to no time. They were able to watch TV shows together, cook together, make fun of Hunter together, plan Mack's birthday party together—all of the types of things they had done before, they could do once again.

But there were moments that Jemma didn't know how to handle, and so therefore avoided them.

Like when they were alone in the lab, and Fitz said something that was rather sweet to her, and her mind went blank as she stared at him. Or when she caught him looking at her for an amount of time that was perhaps longer than necessary, and he reddened, coughed, and left the room. Or when, without really thinking about it, Jemma placed a hand on Fitz's shoulder, arm, or knee, and he looked up at her with such shock that all Jemma could do was remove her hand as quickly as possible.

She really did know where all of this was coming from, but had a hell of a time admitting it to herself. Things were not going to go back to how they were before. Things had changed, and not necessarily in a bad way, just in a very, very different way. Jemma never used to blush if she accidentally bumped elbows with Fitz, but she did now. She never used to get that churning feeling in her stomach if Fitz gazed at her, but now she did. Something about her feelings had changed. Fitz was no longer just Fitz, but had somehow become _her _Fitz. She still had no idea to what degree all these feelings changed, but they had.

Part of her wanted to tell him, yet since she didn't know how strongly her feelings had shifted into some vague, non-platonic zone, she knew she had to wait. She had to wait until she could tell him something of substance, and not just blushes and jumbled words.

That particular day had been remarkably awkward. It was technically holiday time, and so most of the lab workers were gone, leaving the lab very quiet except for the two of them. There had been a number of awkward elbow bumps (and worse—Jemma accidentally bumping her hip into his bum in the small supply closet), some compliments from Fitz that made Jemma's face burn in nerves and a little guilt, and then, worst of all, Hunter coming through, babbling nonsense about lovebirds in the lab, and it slowly dawning on Fitz and her that Hunter was talking about them.

"Oh, Hunter," said Jemma, in a singsong voice to cover her embarrassment, "always spewing rubbish out of his arse."

Fitz smiled briefly, before looking back to his work, red-face and somewhat saddened.

_Oh no, _thought Jemma. _That didn't sound right. _"Not-not that us, you know," she tried to recover, terribly, "that us being, what did he say? 'Lovebirds'? Not that the idea of that is rubbish, just he generally doesn't know what he's talking about." She smiled largely at Fitz, trying so desperately to lighten the mood and remove any remaining remnants of awkwardness, but looking more or less like she had an ulcer.

"Jemma, it's okay," said Fitz, looking somewhat defeated. "You don't have to say anything—I know, I know you don't think of me in that way." He took a deep breath. "It's okay, I'm okay with it, you don't have to hide it from me."

Jemma just stared at him, partly relieved that he hadn't noticed her recent blushing habit and partly astounded that he hadn't picked up on it at all.

"I, um…" Her mind went blank. What on earth was she supposed to say to that? "Fitz, it's not that, I guess." _Crap. I'm going to have to tell him now, _she thought.

Fitz perked up from his computer with a look of sheer panic, or so Jemma thought. "What is it then?"

"Well, it's actually funny," she said, pretending to laugh, "you're going to laugh when I tell you, because I'm just silly. I'm a silly person." _What the hell are you saying?_

Fitz's eyebrows contracted as he looked at her with concern. "What?"

_Oh, damn it all. _"I don't know," she responded, throwing her arms up in defeat. "I don't know what I'm saying, I don't know what I'm feeling. It's all very muddled up here in the brain space," she motioned to her head, indicating she might be crazy, "and I have no idea what is happening to me."

Poor Fitz looked more confused then ever after this, and Jemma could sense that he still had no idea of what she was trying to say. _Damn. Damn, damn._

"Okay," she took a deep breath as she said, "I'm going to try again."

"That might help," said Fitz, eyeing her with caution.

"I have realized recently that, in fact," she said, with a tone of amazement at herself, "I somehow moved you from the friend, lab partner, completely platonic, compartment of my brain," _oh goodness, please understand this metaphor, _"to this, strange, non-platonic compartment, that, one: I didn't know was there, and two: I have no idea what to do with you when you're in that compartment. So, all in all, to summarize, I- well, you-"

"Jemma," Fitz said, finally ended her torture of trying to continue that metaphor, "are you saying you have feelings for me? More-than-friendly feelings?"

"Technically," she started, wanting to be as close to what was going on in her head as possible, "yes."

Fitz's eyes widened. "Oh," he said, seeming equally as tongue-tied as Jemma now. "That's—well, that's weird."

Somehow they both ended up laughing at this comment, and laughing more and more, because a tummy ache was much better than an excruciatingly awkward conversation. But when the laughter subsided, they were once again facing each other, and having no idea how to move forward.

"So," Fitz finally said, breaking the silence, "what now?"

This was an excellent question that Jemma didn't have an answer to. "I don't know, Fitz," she started. "I still have a lot to figure out. These feelings are a little scary, to be honest."

Fitz smiled fondly at her, and said, "Yeah, I know."

Warmth radiated from her abdomen when he smiled, along with a billion butterflies that made her want to vomit. She smiled back, though, knowing it would be better to meet the blushing and awkward glances head-on and finally figure things out. "I'll let you know when I get things more figured out, okay?"

He nodded his head, still smiling, and said, "Yeah, yeah, take all the time you need."


End file.
